Narrative: House and Zayas Professor Tillema Essay

Submitted By gzayas2
Words: 915
Pages: 4

Gabriel Zayas
Professor Tillema
English 1102
Dreaming of a world where every house has a white picket fence, every house is perfectly painted with complimentary colored shutters, the grass is green, and a dog sits beside a dog house gratefully chewing on a bone. Where in reality people around you are living off government aid, trash is littered across the city streets, there seems to be a pawn shop, liquor store, or a church on every corner, people walk past you and you wonder what their thinking? Are they thinking the same as you? What’s next? Where do I go from here? I’m awaken from this day dream by my grandmother “Gabby you hungry?” I tend to mind wander often. See I been staying with her for a little while now in her 2 bedroom cramped apartment with a strong smell of coffee and Bengay, the walls are colored cream, the kitchen still seems to be stuck in the 70's with a vintage twist, cabinets made of wood ready to fall apart, and random pictures and figurines scattered aimlessly across the apartment. “Yea grandma what you cook?” I say while still in my half usual wandering mind and half in the present. “Rice and fried eggs” she says, a usual on the menu. I'm hungry so why not, I step inside and sit at her small table she has in the corner covered in this weird plaid clothe and consume the plate of eggs and rice in front of me. “Thanks grandma I love you” I tell her, I truly do love her and I definitely am thankful for her taking me in during this time of soul searching for me. Now I used to have a lot of friends, so many I can’t even remember half of their names. As time has progressed life started to really smack me in face. When I was in high school I thought the world was mine! I had it all planned out I would graduate get a good job working in a warehouse setting and through my sweat and tears buy a house, after I bought my first house I would flip it like I had read I could do on the covers of Donald Trump books I never took the time to open. After I made enough money to maintain I would then go back to college get a degree in something, and then settle down and start a family. Of course I would do all these things before I turned 25. I look back now and realize how I was mistaken. I finished high school and ended up under street lights, partying in houses full of liquor, drugs, girls, and the pungent smell of marijuana smoke at all times of the day. People coming and going at all hours of the night and doing things I’d rather not say. See even though my life seemed to be headed in the wrong direction I still believed I had it all figured out. I ended up sitting in front of deteriorated homes beyond what I dreamed of being in front of by this age and still dream. Dream of a world of luxury things I was only able to see on T.V. Reality in time set in. I eventually began to have tight handcuffs slapped on my skinny wrists far too often. I wasn’t too big of a guy 6'1 maybe 140 lbs. I began to become far too familiar with the orange jumpsuits, concrete cells 4 by 5 feet wide,